You sit on your throne, leaning back a bit. Your the master of your domain. All look at there feet when they meet you. Your empire, the jungle, is at your mercy, the biggest, strongest and most ruthless of beasts your tower over most, nearly 200 feet tall. You smugly smile to yourself, Size does matter, and you are hardly hampered by the bulk you are naturally, as befits a tyrant you have countless talents that allow you to infiltrate and make sure the proper respects are given to you even in quiet. Curling your regal toes you extend your claws, splaying them softly as you feel the wolf servent scrub them clean from bellow, you can smell his terror. Physically you are a paragon of the lion, your fur is jet black, your long flowing mane a Dark Silver, your muscles stand out through your fur, the match that any athlete would swoon over. Your throne is made of plush satin and hardwood reinforced with a rare ironwood that only exists in your domain, and it's the only one able to keep your body from the ground.. even so it creaks, better not get fat. As you kick away the servent, watching him limp out of your site you admire yourself, perfect, and now it's down to the duties of a tyrant...
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 8:36pm on Nov 18, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author